


Wake Me (Not)

by mysecretashes



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Barebacking, Cunnilingus, Dubious Consent, F/M, Felching, Somnophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-12
Updated: 2013-05-12
Packaged: 2017-12-11 14:28:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/799747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mysecretashes/pseuds/mysecretashes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Allison wants Stiles to fuck her while she's sleeping, so he does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wake Me (Not)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Challenge 3 at [Mating Games](http://mating_games.livejournal.com).

Allison is asleep in his bed.

Stiles pauses just inside his door, hand tightening around his keys as he stares. She's curled on her side, wearing nothing but one of his shirts – _oh god_ – and a pair of black lacy panties. Her mouth is parted just a little, one lock of hair falling over her cheek, and Stiles has to swallow back a sudden moan. His dick twitches in his jeans and he feels like a creeper, but fuck, he's only seventeen. He's allowed to be turned on by a beautiful girl in his bed, wearing his clothes.

Even if it is Allison.

Sighing, Stiles softly closes his door and sets his keys down on his desk. It's two o'clock in the morning and he's fucking dead exhausted, so instead of questioning why Allison is there he just strips down to his t-shirt and boxer briefs and climbs into his bed beside her. He's careful not to touch, and it should be weird but he's too tired to really think about it. He's asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow.

*

Stiles wakes with a gasp, unfocused and confused, his dick hard as nails and surrounded by glorious wet heat. He blinks up, sees Allison smirking down at him, and realizes that he's buried deep inside of her. She grins, grinds her hips, and Stiles groans. He must be having some sort of weird dream, because there's no possible way that Allison would _fuck him awake_.

"Wrong," she says, and squeezes around him.

Stiles manages a strangled noise – he must have said that out loud – and his hands come up to grip her hips. " _Fuck_ , Allison."

"Next time you find me sleeping in your bed," she says, leaning down so that she's speaking directly into his ear, "I want you to fuck me. And if you wake me up while you're doing it, you won't get to come."

Stiles is pretty sure he'd agree to anything at the moment, so he nods his head frantically. Allison looks pleased, and then rides him hard until he's swearing and writhing and coating her insides with his come.

*

Stiles doesn't really think she'll be back, but he can't get her words out of his head. He fantasizes about it, pictures it while his hand is wrapped tightly around his dick, jerking himself desperately.

*

Two weeks later, Stiles comes home late to once again find Allison sleeping in his bed. Like the first time, she's wearing nothing more than one of his shirts and a pair of panties, red this time. Stiles stifles a groan, licking his lips as he stares at her. She looks so relaxed and innocent, like the naïve teenager that all of them should be but none of them are.

Stiles toes off his shoes and steps closer, tugging off his shirt and flipping open the button on his fly. He's already achingly hard, dick twitching inside his underwear, and his heart is beating out a rapid staccato. He wants to do this, _she_ wants him to do this, so he strips off the rest of his clothes and carefully climbs onto the end of the bed.

Allison is on her back this time, one hand curled near her face and the other splayed over her flat stomach, shoved half under the edge of his shirt. Her legs are slightly bent to the side, cradled together, and Stiles holds his breath as he curls his fingers around the top of her panties. He pulls them off slowly, over the curve of her ass and the jut of her hips, down her legs to drop them on the floor.

She doesn't move, and Stiles feels a thrill of triumph. He places his hands on her ankles, slides them up her calves, over her knees, pressing on the inside of her thighs. She's warm and pliant and her legs fall open, exposing all of her for Stiles to see. He draws in a sharp breath, staring at the dark curls and the folds of her center, the shadows leading down between her ass cheeks.

Stiles glances up at her face to make sure she's still asleep, palming at his dick to try and ease the ache. Her eyes are still closed, breathing deep and even, and Stiles' gaze flicks down to where his t-shirt is covering her chest. Her nipples are pebbled, visible under the thin material, and Stiles groans softly. He shifts, shuffling up the bed until he can lean over her and slip his hands under the shirt.

It bunches under her back but he tugs on it as carefully as he can, sliding it up over her ribs and then higher, exposing her breasts to him. They're small and perfect, nipples pink against pale skin, and Stiles palms both of them, squeezing gently.

Allison makes a small noise, hand clenching and then relaxing again, and Stiles freezes, heart jackrabbiting. He doesn't move his hands, her flesh warm beneath his palms, nipples hard against his skin. She remains still, chest rising and falling evenly, and Stiles lets out a breath. He moves his hands, cupping one breast and pinching lightly at the nipple, leaning down to lick over the other. He draws it into his mouth, holding it between his lips as he flicks his tongue against it.

Stiles gives both nipples one last kiss before sitting up and looking down at where her legs are spread around his thighs. He reaches out a finger to touch her, feeling the slight dampness there. She's not nearly wet enough for him, and Stiles bites his lip before carefully stretching over her to reach into his bedside table and grab the bottle of lube he keeps there.

He warms some in the palm of his hand before slipping two slick fingers inside of her. He watches his hand move against her as he spreads the lube, breathing harshly through his nose, the heat of her making his hips hitch with want. She whimpers softly and Stiles pauses, waits until she's settled again before pulling his fingers free. He slicks his dick, biting his lips at the feel, and then pushes Allison's legs as far apart as he can.

The first press in is nearly overwhelming. Allison is tight heat, soft and wet and so fucking incredible Stiles has to choke back a groan, his eyes fluttering shut and his mouth falling open. He takes a moment to wrangle his control back, determined not to wake her up, and then he's pulling out and pushing back in as deep as he can go. 

It's slow, tortuous, his whole body trembling with the need to just _fuck_. Stiles holds back as much as he can, rolling his hips so that his dick slides in and out smoothly rather than with rough thrusts, watching as he disappears into her over and over. As good as it is, it isn't long before Stiles needs more. He's aching and ready to come, but his dick isn't quite there yet. He shifts, leaning over her and holding his weight up on trembling arms. The change in angle is perfect, making him gasp as hot sparks of pleasure begin to pool at the base of his spine.

Allison doesn't move at all, and Stiles whimpers quietly as he stares down at her peaceful face. She's limp and unresponsive, clearly unconscious, and it hits him suddenly that he's technically doing this without her knowledge. He's using her body for his own pleasure, with no regards whatsoever to hers.

Allison is _asleep_ , and Stiles is fucking her.

A broken moan tears out of him, his fingers twisting in the sheets, and he comes fucking _hard_. His dick jerks and pulses, filling Allison full of his come, the hot slickness surrounding him as he shudders, hips grinding against her. For a moment Stiles is worried he woke her, that she'll blink up at him and shatter the illusion, but that doesn't happen.

When he can breathe again he sits up and slowly pulls out, holding her open so he can watch his come slide out of her. Unable to help himself, he shifts back far enough to give himself room and then leans down and licks at her, tasting both of them together. He groans, dipping his tongue inside and then rubbing it over her clit.

Allison makes a small noise above him and he glances up without moving away. Her brows are drawn down just a little but otherwise she doesn't react. Stiles grins and licks harder, flicking his tongue against the nub at her center, and feels it swell. He slides two fingers into her, not stopping the movements of his tongue as she tenses and her walls contract around him.

When she relaxes again Stiles pulls away, expecting her to be awake this time. To his surprise she's still sleeping, mouth parted and eyes moving rapidly beneath her eyelids. Stiles grins, wipes off his mouth and chin, and doesn't bother to clean either of them up before he lays down next to her and throws one arm over her bare waist. He leaves his shirt bunched under her arms and her breasts out in the open, and falls asleep to the rhythmic sound of her breathing.


End file.
